


love language

by gazing



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Romance, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Cute, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay Panic, Healthy Relationships, No Angst, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Sharing Clothes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cutest awkward dating ever, they r still a mess but it’s wholesome this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gazing/pseuds/gazing
Summary: Bernie won’t stop giving Serena her clothes.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 21
Kudos: 105





	love language

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! hope u enjoy this fic :) its set some time before indefensible
> 
> I miss s18 berena s o much o h my god
> 
> I’ve never written berena, and writing their lovely banter was the most fun thing ever so :D

“Another glass?”

Serena quirks an eyebrow at the question. Her eyes sparkle in Bernie’s dimly lit living room.

“What do you think?” She drawls.

Bernie lets out a chuckle.

“Sorry, I should know better than to ask.”

After a long shift on AAU, dealing with patients and the dreaded _red phone,_ there’s nothing more relaxing than having a drink with her colleague and friend. Serena has melted into the old armchair in Bernie’s living room. It smells like cheap coffee and Bernie, and she lets the atmosphere soothe her, lets the wine unravel the tension in her bones.

It’s become a ritual, drinking at Albie’s or in their houses after work. No matter how much they fight during their shifts, their equally bold spirits clashing more often than not, Serena knew that there’s always these moments to fall back on. Bernie is a good friend, and Serena has never had anyone who she could depend upon so easily. Now that she has Bernie, her nights and slow afternoons are less... lonely.

Serena treasures the moments they’re with Jason. Her heart bursts when she sees her nephew and her best friend laughing together. She savours equally as much the nights when the two of them are alone, smiling at each other over the rims of their glasses.

“Well, get on with it.” Serena holds out her glass, and Bernie obliges, pouring the last drops of shiraz. It sparkles red against the glass, and Serena lets out a content hum before taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” Serena smiles, “Bernie, _where_ do you buy your shiraz?”

Bernie blinks. It’s endearing, the way she frowns at Serena under her fringe. Serena is hit with a wave of tipsy affection for her.

“Is it bad? I thought-“

“No, no.” Serena waves a hand, “On the contrary, it’s _divine._ I’ve tried every bottle in the county, but this is by far my favourite.”

“Perhaps it’s because you’re in my company.” Bernie says. Her worry fades into a mischevious smile, and Serena rolls her eyes.

“Charming.” She takes another sip of Shiraz, warmth passing through her as she drinks her favourite wine. “You have the night shift on Thursday, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes.” Bernie says, and grimaces. “I’m covering for Raf. Something about an important online date he can’t reschedule...”

“Oh, good lord.”

“I know! But I never leave a teammate behind.”

“You’re not in the army now, Bernie. You don’t have to be so... chivalrous.”

“You know me,” Bernie says, “Ever the loyal soldier.”

“I don’t quite think the Geneva Convention applies to dating.”

“Why not? Relationships are a _warpath.”_

“I won’t argue with that.” Serena giggles.

She feels warm from the wine, from her best friend’s company. She thinks she could sleep right there, in that old chair. Though the living room is small and cramped, and the chair would make her back _ache,_ she could easily dream there. Comfortable and safe.

When she looks up Bernie is gazing at her fondly from under her hair. Her long legs crossed on the sofa, her eyes dark and pretty in the low light, she looks rather lovely. It’s normal, Serena thinks hazily, half drunk on good shiraz, to admire your best friend. Especially if your best friend is Berenice Wolfe.

“You aren’t planning on getting back out there? Dating again?” Serena means it to be playful, but even she can hear the tense note in her voice.

“I think love is the last thing on my mind, Serena.” Bernie takes a sip of wine, finishing the glass in a single gulp. Serena sees her throat, long and slender, as she swallows. “I can hardly look after myself.”

“Oh, nonsense.”

“Well, what about you? Anyone caught your eye?”

“You make it sound so old fashioned.” Serena laughs. “But to answer your question, definitely not. I have enough on my plate already.”

“AAU remains a sex free zone, then.”

“Some things never change.”

Serena looks at Bernie as she tilts her head back against the sofa to laugh. Her hair is messy, loose from its ponytail, and it falls around her smile.

“You know,” Serena says slowly, “I’ve always thought the two of us would be a good couple. It would certainly solve all of our problems.”

“Oh, definitely.” Bernie jokes easily, “If only you weren’t so heterosexual.”

“Well, life goes on, I suppose.”

“Cheers to that.” Bernie agrees, and holds up her glass.

Oh, how Serena wishes she could stay in this moment forever. She knows she’ll have others like it. Knows with certainty that she’ll spend years laughing and working with Bernie. But if she could hold onto just a little of this magic, she thinks she might never be stressed again. A pile of paperwork, or exhaustion stinging behind her eyes, would hardly mean anything.

When she thinks back on their time together, it’s with fondness. They’ve had their fair share of fights, but Serena knows it’s only brought them closer. It’s wonderful to know the dark sides of someone, to learn all of their bitterness and fury and sadness. Serena cares for _all_ of Bernie, not just her good qualities.

But God, Bernie has so _many_ good qualities. Her bravery, her strength, her quick mind, her kindness, her shyness. She’s a treasure, and Serena knows it. Knows she wants to keep her no matter what.

“Penny for them?”

“Hm?”

“Penny for your thoughts. What are you thinking?” Bernie asks, “You looked so serious for a moment.”

“Sorry, I was just...” Serena trails off, her cheeks turning a little pink. Damn shiraz, she thinks, with no bad humour. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re woman of mystery.” Bernie laughs.

“I don’t know if that’s so useful when you’re old. Perhaps if I was younger and prettier it would be charming.”

“I disagree.”

“What’s there to disagree with? I’m well past my prime, Bernie.”

Bernie’s eyes narrow.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Don’t say things like that, Serena.” Bernie says firmly. “You’re beautiful as you are.”

There’s an awkward silence as the words settle in the warm room. Serena flushes darker. She plays with her necklace, pulling the chain back and forth between her fingers, while Bernie steadily avoids eye contact. Why does a compliment between friends, Serena thinks, looking up again shyly, feel so tense?

“Thank you.” Serena says softly, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Don’t I know it.” Bernie laughs, and the world rights itself again.

Serena wonders if this is how all close friendships feel. As the weeks go on and the months pass by in a haze of long shifts and Bernie’s sharp eyes, Serena has begun to think she’s met her other half. Bernie is a friend who can match her, be her equal, inspire her and help her grow. Not to mention that she makes Serena so bloody _happy._

“I should leave .” Serena says quietly, her fingers still gripping the cold necklace chain, “It’s getting late, and Jason will be back soon.”

“I’ll send for the cavalry.” Bernie says.

“I think a taxi will do, but thank you for the offer.” Serena chuckles. “Can I pick my car up some time this week?”

“Of course. Don’t forget your coat though.”

Serena rises to her feet, and stumbles a little on the carpet. Bernie stands easily and catches her arm.

“A little too much Shiraz?”

“Perhaps. But we had fun.”

“We always do.” Bernie says sweetly, letting go of her arm almost as soon as she’s touched it. “With or without wine.”

Serena hesitates in the doorway. She doesn’t want to step out into the cold night, away from the warmth of Bernie’s house and her warm smile. She dreads going back to reality, to hard work and blood stains. She looks up at her friend, who’s leaning against the doorframe watching her.

Something about the moment reminds Serena of past dates. She’s remind of the anticipation before the _goodbye._ Will they kiss me, will they ask to see me again... Ridiculous old woman, Serena thinks to herself. This evening between friends is nothing like a date.

“Goodnight, Serena.” Bernie says, a soft and gentle thing. Serena pauses.

“I-“ She swallows. “Goodnight.”

Bernie opens the door for her, her arm brushing against Serena’s side. The cold wind hits them when it opens, and it’s bitter on their flushed cheeks. Serena shivers instinctively.

“You’ll catch your death.” Bernie frowns. She reaches behind her. “Here.”

With steady, slender hands Bernie wraps a scarf around Serena’s neck. It’s old and thick, a rich navy blue, and it smells faintly like Bernie’s husky perfume. It seems to be hand knitted, and it’s so delightfully warm around Serena’s neck.

“This got me through more nights out on the field that I can count.” Bernie says sheepishly. “Hopefully it helps.”

“Bernie, it’s a two minute walk to the taxi-“

But Bernie looks so shyly pleased with herself that Serena can’t stand to argue.

“Thank you.” She says instead, and smiles. She burrows her face deeper into the scarf, no longer cold, and Bernie’s face flickers with an emotion Serena can’t decipher.

Bernie reaches out her hands to tuck the end of the scarf inside of Serena’s coat. She hesitates for a moment, her hands holding the scarf between her fingers.

“Serena.” She breathes, and looks down at her. There’s warmth glinting in her eyes and when she steps forward, Serena has the ridiculous thought that Bernie is going to kiss her. But then she lets go of the scarf. She steps backwards. The moment fades like the last remaining glimpses of sunlight as the dawn arrives. “Get home safely.“

“Alright, alright, you can stop babysitting me now.” Serena says, matching Bernie’s casual smile with her own. Her fluttering heart, though, seems to have a mind of its own.

*

It’s purely coincidental when Serena wears Bernie’s scarf again.

She’d woken half asleep and pulled on the warmest clothes she had, because she dreaded stepping out into the cold morning to work another shift at Holby. The thick scarf had settled easily against her skin and Serena had sighed gratefully and got into her car without a second thought.

_Well_ , that’s not quite true. Serena had found the gesture of the scarf quite touching. Bernie really could be thoughtful when she wanted to be, and the thought of her kindness brings a fond smile to Serena’s face. She feels like it represents their closeness, their familiarity with one another. So wearing it had been a conscious choice. Perhaps it was a safety blanket to warm her in the cold morning.

She needs to give the scarf back to Bernie anyway. Between mismatched shifts and looking after Jason she hadn’t had seen her friend in over a week, and Serena is surprised to find she misses her terribly.

Surrounded by the smell of Bernie’s perfume still lingering in the scarf, Serena’s mood lifts. Though she’s tired, she hums to herself as she drives to Holby. It’ll be nice to see Bernie’s ponytail swishing around the trauma bay again.

By the time Serena gets to their office she’s halfway through a coffee from Pulses. She collapses into her chair and closes her eyes for a moment. Bernie’s already there tapping at her computer.

Serena hears Bernie choke on air.

Surprised, Serena looks up from her desk sleepily. She runs a hand through her hair and gives Bernie an amused smile.

“Good morning.” She says, “Are you alright?”

Bernie eyes flicker over Serena before she clears her throat and turns back to her computer screen. She nods quickly, and her hair falls over her eyes.

“Quite.” Bernie says.

Serena raises an eyebrow and takes off her coat, but leaves the scarf on for a moment, unwilling to separate herself from the warmth. Then she reluctantly unravels it from around her neck and folds it carefully on the table, and there’s a thump as a pile of Bernie’s paperwork falls clumsily to the ground.

“What’s the matter with you today?” Serena asks, as Bernie ducks under the table to pick up the paperwork.

“Nothing, Serena, I’m just-“ Bernie stands awkwardly with her arms full of paper. “I’m working.”

“Right.” Serena shakes her head, and Bernie trips over the desk. “Now really, Bernie, how often are you in this office? You should know where the bloody desk is.”

“Sorry.” Bernie smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Her coyness is sweet, and Serena melts. There are worse ways to spend her morning than in the company of Berenice Wolfe.

“Right, back to work.” Bernie says firmly, sitting in her chair.

But five minutes later, between the sounds of the hospital and fingers on keyboards, Bernie speaks again.

“Um, Serena, the scarf?” Bernie pauses, speaks again, and Serena notices she’s flushed up to her ears, “That is, uh,”

It’s not often that she finds Bernie Wolfe speechless. Serena’s confused, but she’s also charmed by the sweet, lost look on her friends face. She feels so fond of her, in that moment, for absolutely no reason at all.

“Do you want it?” Bernie’s eyes flicker up to meet hers, across the office they’ve shared for a while now. They’ve been working together through thick and thin, and smiling for some of it, getting closer for all of it. “I mean- I have a few, and it- it suits you better, so-“

Serena blinks.

“Bernie, I couldn’t-“

“Consider it a gift.” Bernie interrupts loudly, her eyes flickering nervously around the room “From me to you. I know how much you hate the cold, so...”

A warmth passes over Serena, and her toes almost curl. When was the last time someone was so thoughtful to her? A small smile rises on her face, and when Bernie smiles back, sweet and relieved, she feels nothing but love for her friend.

“Well, then, I’ll accept it.” Serena says, “Gladly.”

Bernie holds her gaze. She’s pretty in the early morning, her fringe messily falling over her eyes and her legs crossed in her chair. Once again Serena marvels at the fact that someone like Bernie could ever be her friend, could share her work and her life with her. She swallows a lump in her throat. When had she gotten so lucky?

“Actually, Serena.” Bernie says, in one breath, “I‘ve been meaning to tell you-“

Then the door bursts open, and Bernie clears her throat and looks away quickly.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Raf says. He glances at Bernie knowingly, and Serena bristles when she’s unable to understand whatever understanding passes between them.

“Duty calls.” Bernie says. She takes one last look at Serena before standing, taking the stack of paper from Raf’s hand and quickly leaving the room.

The shift passes as always, in a flurry of patients and injuries, surgeries and corridors. Serena loses herself in the work, and is delighted when Bernie asks her to join her in theatre for a surgery. In theatre they work so well together, as if they become one, and Serena adores it.

So she’s smiling under her mask while the scalpel pierces the flesh.

“It’s been a long day.” Bernie says, peering into the open chest.

“You can say that again.” Serena says, her gloved fingers brushing Bernie’s. “Albie’s tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Serena glances up at her shyly.

“Good.” She says, “Because drinks are on you.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

The two of them talk a lot, but sometimes, the silence between them can be just as meaningful. Comfortable, safe, Serena feels like she could communicate just as much in these moments of quiet. She smiles at Bernie with her eyes, and when Bernie looks back at her, she knows they’re on the same page.

“That reminds me, weren’t you going to tell me something earlier?”

“Oh, that’s-“ Bernie turns to the nurse. “Suction.”

“I forgot what I was going to say.” Bernie says , as she drains blood with the suction pipe. Her eyes are focused, and her hands are steady. If she were a man, Serena thinks, _I’d be weak at the knees._

“Brilliant.” Serena says, and looks down at Bernie’s hands. “Oh, _beautiful_ job. Although, it’s you, so that’s no surprise.” 

Bernie glances up at her, her eyes sparkling.

“I can finish up here if you want.”

“There’s no need-“

“I know you’re tired. You can rest now, it’s fine.”

“Bernie-“

“I won’t take no for an answer, Serena.” Her eyes are darker when she looks up, and Serena swallows.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you today,” Serena says, her heart warming again, “Thank you.”

She washes up and makes her way back to their office. It’s with a grateful sigh that she melts into her chair again. Her eyes land on Bernie’s scarf, folded neatly on the desk, and she runs a hand over it gently.

“Bernie.” She says softly. She’s the best friend she’s ever had. Perhaps the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

Serena tilts her head back against the chair. Lately she’s been wondering how much of her mind Bernie is supposed to take up. It’s not safe to think of her friend so often, but her thoughts drift back to her, over and over again...

“Silly old woman.” Serena grumbles, and closes her eyes. The long day catches up with her, and she lets herself rest, even though she’s still in her scrubs.

With tired eyes and frown lines, Serena sinks deeper into the chair, and sleeps.

Later, she’s woken by a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Serena,” Bernie’s voice says, and Serena looks blearily at her in the office and thinks _you’re so wonderful._ The hazy moment between the sunset and Bernie’s apologetic smile makes her dream of impossible things. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I thought you’d be angry if I didn’t.”

“Quite right.” Serena rubs her face, and notices she isn’t cold anymore. Bernie’s long, thick coat has been thrown over her. “What’s this?”

“You, um,” Bernie looks away, “You seemed cold.”

“R-Right.” Serena smiles shyly, and doesn’t want to move now. “Did you finish up okay?”

Bernie nods, looking down at her.

“I should get up.” Serena groans.

“I think what you need is a cuppa and sleep, Serena.” Bernie says, and puts her hand gently on Serena’s head. “Albie’s can wait.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Serena sighs.

“I always am.”

“I just-“ Serena grips the coat. “I feel so selfish. And you keep being so kind to me-“

Bernie’s hand threads gently through her hair, and Serena’s eyes flutter shut.

“You deserve it. I don’t mind taking care of you.“ Bernie pauses, “I love it, actually.”

Serena’s heart jumps dangerously. With Bernie’s hand in her hair, her kind, soft words filling their shared office, she feels unsteady. What’s the matter with me, she thinks weakly, her cheeks turning pink. But she knows fine well what she’s feeling. It was only a matter of time before she realised it.

“Bernie.” Serena swallows, her eyes opening. Bernie gazed back at her for a moment, and Serena feels like warm honey, melting under the sun. The cold autumn can’t reach her here. Every lovely moment and angry word they’ve shared echoes in the office with them.

“Serena, I-“

“Ahem.”

They both jump when Raf speaks from the doorway again. He’s wrapped up in his coat and wearing a hat. Bernie jumps away from Serena quickly when she notices him. Serena leaps to her feet too, the coat bundled in her arms.

Raf clears his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt _again.”_ He says cheekily, a Scottish tint in his voice as always, “But we were wondering if you’re heading to Albie’s? Drinks on Bernie, as always.”

“Hey!” Bernie laughs, and Serena can’t find any traces of nervousness on her face. It’s unfair, Serena thinks, because her heart is pounding so fast. If she wasn’t a medical professional she’d think she was having a heart attack. “Think we’re turning in early tonight. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“There goes Fletch’s dreams of free drinks.” Raf laughs.

Distracted, Serena pulls on Bernie’s coat and finds it hangs past her knees.

“Is that a new coat, Serena?” Raf asks, and Serena splutters. The sly look in his eyes suggests he _definitely_ knows that it’s Bernie’s coat.

“What? Oh, I-“

“It was a gift.” Bernie says shyly, “She got it recently.”

“Yes, it was a um, a gift, from my-“ Serena croaks and wants to crawl into a hole to die. “My- Well, anyway. Sorry, I’m very very tired.”

“Okay?” Raf looks at her curiously, then shrugs and turns away. “Better not keep them waiting. Have a good night.”

“You too.” Bernie says, smiling, while Serena wishes herself dead.

The silence once Raf leaves makes Serena nervous. She’s so used to being comfortable in Bernie’s presence, enough to argue with her, sit close together, or laugh at the most inappropriate of times. Her own sudden shyness catches her off guard. She feels like melting, just from Bernie’s kind gestures, and it’s rattled her.

“We better be off then.” Bernie says casually. She’s not going to mention the coat, Serena thinks weakly. “Serena?”

“Ah, yes, I-“ She feels like a schoolgirl with a crush, stumbling over her words. “Of course, sorry. Off we pop!”

_Off we pop, really?_ Serena thinks, humiliated. She trails miserably out of the door after Bernie.

Perhaps Serena had always known that the lovely burning spark between them had been more than close friendship. After all, she’d never met anyone who could understand her so well, and who she understood in return. She should have noticed earlier, really, that perhaps her fondness for Bernie ran a little too deep. But she hadn’t realised until the scarf and the coat that maybe she wanted to be more than _friends_ after all.

So much for heterosexual, Serena thinks, watching Bernie’s back as they walk.

Serena is grateful that the fresh air outside of the hospital cools the flush in her cheeks. Eventually comes the moment they usually say goodbye, leaving it two separate cars, but tonight Serena hesitates under the moonlight.

She pulls Bernie’s coat tighter around herself. She hopes she isn’t imagining it when Bernie’s eyes pass over her, warm and almost possessive.

“Goodnight.” Serena says. Bernie opens her mouth and then closes it again.

“Do you, um-“ Bernie looks down at their shoes, almost touching on the gravel, “Do you want to-“

Serena’s heart flutters, but then Bernie shakes her head.

“Nevermind. Goodnight, Serena.” She says instead. She passes her hand over Serena’s shoulder, as if brushing away dust.

Serena watches her leave. Bernie ducks into her car, and pulls away, and all of the while Serena’s heart is in her throat.

*

More often lately they’ve been spending time together outside of the hospital.

They go to restaurants and cafes and they even went a shopping trip, once. If they aren’t spending time together Serena is thinking about Bernie, and _wearing_ her everywhere. The coat and scarf are a permanent fixture in her wardrobe. She’ll never get used to the tiny smile that rises on Bernie’s face when she sees Serena wearing them.

And every second Serena falls a little more in love with her. Now that she’s realised her true feelings it’s hard not to think about Bernie’s mouth, her strong arms, her spirit and her kind heart. She thinks of her _constantly._ She wants all of her, and Serena _always_ gets what she wants, but an uncharacteristic shyness stops her from making the first move.

So when Bernie calls her one lazy Sunday morning and asks if she’ll go for a walk in the park, Serena easily agrees. Oh, she grumbles to Jason for a while about the weather and the early hour of course, but by 9 she’s out of the door and wrapped in Bernie’s coat and scarf to keep her warm.

“There you are.” Bernie says sweetly. She’s waiting by Serena’s gate, the sunlight framing her hair. The moment is so sweet and domestic that it aches. Serena smiles brightly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” She says, “I can’t forgive you for getting me up at this hour.”

“It’s past 9!”

“Not all of us have a body clock suited to soldiers, Bernie.” Serena sniffs.

They walk side by side through the streets. Serena thinks of how often they’ve walked like this before, their shoulders brushing as they talked. They’re always in sync, even when they’re crashing into each other.

And Serena would love to walk with her forever.

“So what’s the occasion?”

Bernie pauses at Serena’s question. She rubs the back of her neck.

“Nothing, just-“ Bernie swallows. “I just wanted to walk. With you. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Serena says, and bumps their shoulders together. She thinks _you know I’ll follow you anywhere_ and she hopes Bernie hears it.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Bernie says, “I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.”

“You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee.”

“Deal.” Bernie laughs.

Oh, how wonderful this is, Serena thinks. She never wants to lose Bernie. Every second they spend together makes her so happy, even when she’s angry or sad or tired, and there’s no one else she’d rather walk beside.

“You know Jason wants to try his hand at baking this afternoon.” Serena says, “You can join us, if you want.”

“Really?” Bernie’s voice is almost vulnerable. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t be silly, Bernie, you could never.” Serena smiles at her brightly. “We’d love to have you.“

Bernie beams back, and the world is so wonderful even though it’s so cold and dark and windy. Serena wishes for nothing more than to keep Bernie forever.

The park is pretty. The trees have turned varying shades of orange, red, and yellow, and the leaves fall in the breeze. They walk beside the river, and watch the leaves float along it, the sky reflected in the water.

“Do you come here a lot?” Serena asks.

“Sometimes. I like to go running when my thoughts get too much, you know. It’s great for your mind.”

“Well I’m telling you now, I’m not running anywhere.”

“Don’t worry, that wasn’t on my agenda.” Bernie laughs. “What about a slight jog?”

“No, thank you.”

“A power walk?”

“I refuse.”

Bernie laughs louder, and she’s so happy, so _alive._ Serena wonders at all of the pain they went through just to get to this lovely moment, while the leaves die on the trees.

“Thank you, Bernie” Serena says gently, touching the scarf around her neck. Bernie blinks at her.

“What for?”

Serena just smiles, watching a squirrel run past them through the grass. Bernie’s hand brushes hers.

“You’re cold.” Bernie murmurs.

“Yes, you’ll find that happens in Autumn.”

“If I had gloves I would give you them.” Bernie sighs.

“You really don’t need to keep doing that, you know.” Serena says, “Sharing everything with me, I mean. It’s very sweet of you, but you never owe me anything, Bernie.”

“I know.” Bernie smiles. “That’s not why I...”

“Then why...?”

Bernie shrugs.

“Because I want to.” She says simply.

Under the darkening trees Bernie’s cautiously hand slips into hers. Her grip is loose as her fingers curl around Serena’s.

“What- what on earth are you doing?” Serena splutters.

“I don’t have gloves. This is the next best thing.” Bernie’s grip tightens when Serena doesn’t pull away, and her hand is warm and rough. Serena lets out a gentle sigh. “Is this okay? I- I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and take it the wrong way, I just...”

“It’s fine.” Serena murmurs. “My hands _are_ cold, after all.”

It’s another one of Bernie’s gifts, holding hands in the park. They talk and laugh and tease as normal, but there’s the weight of Bernie’s hand in hers too, like they’re a _couple._ Serena doesn’t want to ever let go.

“You really need to stop this.” Serena says. “I owe you so much.”

Bernie’s scarf, a comforting weight on her neck. Bernie’s coat, wrapped around her shoulders like an embrace. Bernie’s hand, rough and so very lovely. Moulded perfectly to fit her own.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Bernie says, and squeezes her hand. “Friendship isn’t a debt, Serena.”

“Friendship.” Serena mutters under her breath.

“If it bothers you, I can stop?”

“No!” Serena bursts out quickly, and then ducks head in embarrassment. “I mean, I don’t _mind._ That is, to say, you... I... I’m...”

They walk quietly, back to Serena’s house, a lovely tension between them. Bernie holds her hand for longer than necessary, all the way to the gate, where she hovers with her hand tucked into Serena’s for a while.

“Is it still okay for me to come in?” Bernie asks shyly.

“Of course. Jason will be delighted. And I-“ Serena swallows, and squeezes Bernie’s hand. “I’m not complaining either.”

It’s later, when they’re smiling at each other over the counter covered in flour while Jason bakes, that Serena wonders how long she’ll be able to put up with Bernie Wolfe’s antics before she gives in and kisses her senseless.

*

“Is that the time already?”

Bernie glances at the clock on her living room wall, and Serena rolls her eyes. They’re close on the sofa, their knees touching, and if Serena has her way they won’t be parting any time soon. It’s been a glorious night of good food and even better wine at a beautiful italian restaurant. A drink at Bernie’s afterwards was just what the doctor ordered. Literally.

“It’s _fine,_ Bernie, Jason’s sleeping with a friend tonight.” Serena waves her hand.

“It’s not safe to go home so late-“

“I’m a grown woman!”

“I know _that.”_ Bernie smiles, her smile widening.

“Just another drink.” Serena says sweetly. She flutters her eyelashes, and Bernie gives in immediately.

“You’re the devil, Serena Campbell.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Serena drawls.

This close she can see Bernie’s mouth, stained with wine. She can be drawn into her warmth, closer and closer as the night goes on. She wants to curl into her arms, but she’s far too shy, even with the alcohol in her system.

“You know,” Bernie starts, cautiously, playing with a loose thread of her trousers. “You could just stay here tonight. If you want.”

Serena wets her lips.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother-“

“You wouldn’t be.” Bernie still doesn’t look at her. “I can sleep on the sofa, so-“

“I can’t take your bed from you.”

Bernie finally looks up, a nervous, playful smile blooming on her face.

“You’re not suggesting we _share_ the bed?” She asks, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“That’s not, uh, that’s not what I _meant.”_ Serena splutters, spilling wine onto the sofa, and Bernie chuckles.

“I know, I’m just kidding, sorry. I know you’re not interested.”

Bernie couldn’t be more wrong. But Serena is too cautious to correct her. She’s so nervous and child like around her, under the mercy of her heart. Serena is so used to being bold.

“But your back...”

“I can survive one night on the couch.”

“I have to get home early for Jason’s breakfast.”

“You can just slip out in the morning.” Bernie says.

“It’s tempting.” Serena says, tilting her head and smiling at Bernie. Bernie meets her eyes, smiles slowly back, and Serena’s stomach drops. Tempting indeed, she thinks, her eyes flickering to Bernie’s mouth. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Bernie’s hand ghosts over her arm. It’s meant to be reassuring, but Serena suppresses a shiver. “You’re never a bother, Serena.”

“Oh, why not.” Serena holds out her glass. “More please.”

They end up getting closer and closer in the dark. Serena rests her head on Bernie’s shoulder, and listens to her breathing, and it feels like she’s done it a million times before. She suddenly remembers a book Elinor loves, and a quote flickers in her mind. _They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered._

It’s true enough for them, isn’t it? From the beginning Serena has been drawn to her. She’s always wanted to be closer to Bernie, to be there for her in hard times and to laugh with her otherwise. They’re so similar but so different. Their intimacy had been slow and lovely, as comfortable as an old jazz song, crooning about love.

“I wish life could always be like this.” Serena murmurs in the dark.

“Hm?”

“Sometimes life can be so bloody busy. Everyone gets on my nerves, and I have too much to do, and apparently 8 hours of sleep is too much to ask for.” Serena grumbles. “And then there’s you. Oh, you contribute to a fair share of my misery, of course. But when I’m with you none of it matters anymore. I’m just happy.”

She hadn’t meant to let the Shiraz talk for her, but Bernie puts an arm around her back and squeezes her, so the embarrassment is worth it.

“I always wonder.” Bernie says quietly. _Honestly._ Having Bernie Wolfe open up to her is a gift Serena will never take for granted. “What life would’ve been like if we’d met 20 years ago.”

Serena can imagine it.

Perhaps... perhaps it would’ve been wonderful. Oh, Serena doesn’t regret anything. She loves Elinor and Jason and Holby. But she wishes more than anything that she could’ve had Bernie all along.

“You wouldn’t have liked me back then. I was a minx.”

“You still are.” Bernie laughs. “Serena... If we had met then... do you think maybe...”

Serena hears Bernie sigh. She melts against her, and loves Bernie in her entirety. There’s only silence after Bernie’s half finished question. If only they were brave enough to speak.

Eventually Bernie yawns and stretches.

“Right, bed.” She says, standing and leaving Serena cold on the couch.

“Yes sir.” Serena giggles, letting Bernie pull her to her feet.

“There’s an extra blanket around here somewhere...” Bernie murmurs, and it isn’t long before she’s wrapping it around Serena’s shoulders. “Here.“

“Thank you.” Serena smiles, and Bernie smiles back. “I’m going to be very rude and leave you in the morning, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll survive.” Bernie laughs.

“You better. Who else will take me to the best restaurants?”

“I’m sure you’d find someone else.”

Serena pauses, and pulls the blanket tighter around herself.

“I wouldn’t want someone else.” She says quietly, looking down at Bernie’s carpet. “You know that, right?”

Bernie breathes into the silence. Serena wants to crawl into bed with her, just to sleep wrapped in her arms.

“Serena...” She says, stepping towards her in the dark. Again, Serena hopes desperately Bernie will kiss her. She wraps her arms loosely around Serena’s back instead. “Goodnight.”

“Bernie, please-“ Serena starts, reaching for her, but Bernie steps backwards easily. All that’s left of her is the blanket keeping Serena safe and warm.

“Goodnight.” Bernie says again, regret flickering behind her eyes.

So Serena doesn’t argue. She takes the steps to Bernie’s room slowly in the dark. Once she’s in her bedroom she runs her hand along the walls, the desks, learning every inch of Bernie’s space.

Serena wishes it was hers too.

She sighs. It’s colder up here, and so Serena rummages around in Bernie’s drawers and pulls on a sweater. She hasn’t got many, and it’s a little tight on Serena, but she crawls under the covers happily anyway.

The next day she leaves Bernie’s house to return to Jason, but not before looking in on Bernie sleeping in the living room. She’s stretched out on the couch, breathing quietly as she sleeps, and Serena smiles to herself and savours the moment before leaving.

I love her, Serena thinks, in every second that follows.

The next shift at Holby she wears the sweater, for some impulsive, romantic reason. She’s nervous as she tugs at the sleeves. Bernie’s coat is thrown hastily over the top, and her scarf is wrapped around Serena’s neck, and Serena can’t help but think that she’s been well and truly claimed. Not that she’s complaining.

As always, she grabs two coffees from Pulses and takes the elevator to the office. Her heart is in her throat as Morven chats to her in the corridor. Is every day from now on going to tie her in knots? Serena's heart can't help but flutter.

She steps into the office as always. Their safe space, the place they'd grown together. Serena shrugs off the coat and scarf and puts the coffee on the table.

"Serena! I didn't think you were in today-" Bernie's bright voice fades away.

Serena freezes when she realises Bernie is watching her silently from the chair with wide eyes.

"Morning." Serena says, in a low, nervous voice.

Bernie doesn't even blink as she stands and walks towards her. Serena swallows and steps backwards, against the wall, but Bernie is already in her space. So lovely and intoxicating. Bernie has trapped her against their office door.

"Serena." Bernie murmurs, looking down into her face.

"The sweater- have I overstepped-" Serena tries to speak, her hands shaking. "Because I thought that maybe you might... that we were..."

Bernie leans down and kisses her. She tastes like chocolate and honeycomb, like cheap coffee and home, and when she realises Serena is kissing back she wraps her arms around Serena's back and pulls her impossibly closer.

_Oh,_ Serena thinks, grasping at Bernie's hair. She'd imagined this moment so many times but the reality of it was messy and perfect. She wraps her arms around Bernie's waist and lets out a trembling sigh. Once again she knows that Bernie is the best thing thats ever happened to her.

Serena grins dizzily and tucks her head into Bernie's shoulder, not trusting herself to show her face.

"Serena, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have," Bernie starts, but Serena can hear the smile growing in her voice, "But I've been wanting to do that for weeks."

Serena lets out a giggle against her neck. Where better to kiss her best friend for the first time, she thinks hazily, than in their shared office, their tiny home.

"Me too."

"Really?" Bernie asks, breathy and high pitched.

Serena leans back to look at her. There's doubt and vulnerability in her face, and she doesn't meet Serena's eyes.

"Bernie,” Serena says quickly, before she can regret it. "The thing is, you’re my best friend. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And lately I started to- well I noticed that I was. That I was falling in love with you.”

Bernie blinks.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know.” Serena smiles. She’s glad she said it. “You should know I love you.”

"I- Serena-" Bernie swallows, her eyes flickering to Serena's mouth again, "I'm sorry, I'm not good with words-"

"I know." Serena says affectionately. "That's what you kept giving me clothes for, right?"

Bernie finally meets her eyes.

"I understand." Serena says, and smiles, and Bernie's face lights up. "Thank you."

"Serena." Bernie breathes, and the look in her eyes says _I adore you_ and Serena's melts under that gaze, just as she melted on the first day when that voice called across the car park, _engine been growling or whining?_

"I didn’t know if you felt the same. Giving you gifts was the only way I could- that I could feel like-“ Bernie hesitates, “It was the only way I could feel like you were mine.”

Serena is Bernie’s, in every possible way. She always has been. She always will be, for eternity.

“I’m yours.” She says, and knows Bernie has been saying _I love you_ without words all along.


End file.
